Aranea Aes
by Samar Grey
Summary: While on a mission trying to find a criminal, something terrible happens. Peter gets caught under falling rubble, while the rest of the team escapes. Presumed dead and with a nasty bout of amnesia, Peter wants nothing more than to see his Aunt and Uncle. However, things never turn out as planned, as the person who finds him wouldn't be largely considered the best role model.
1. The Accident

**AN: Man, this plot bunny has been bouncing around in my head for a while now. The idea for this story came to me in a dream, which is strange, because by then, I had never seen any of the X-Men movies, and only knew who a few people were and a vague idea as to what powers they had. I know I need to work on SoH, but I couldn't get this out of my head, trust me, but as I got the Muse for this story, my other Muse for SoH decided to run away. I constantly think about needing to update, but I just can't cooperate with my head. Also AP History and Marching Band are bitches.**

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Peter shifted his feet, feeling a bit uncomfortable. I felt odd to finally be working with the whole Avengers team, and he felt slightly unqualified. He knew that he could hold his own against them, but damn; they were intimidating sometimes. This was his twelfth official mission with them, not that he was counting or anything, and he was starting to get used to it all. When the Avengers had first seen Peter at the compound, they were all convinced that he was Mr Stark's illegitimate son. It took him, Mr Stark, Aunt May, _and_ an parential test to convince them all otherwise, (Clint was very sure of it).

Anyways, here they were on the Quinjet, zooming off to some remote warehouse in Upstate New York to take care of the villain of the week. There were 'signs of disturbance' or what ever term Captain America was using this time, and they had pinpointed it all here. They suspected that whoever it turned out to be would only be here for a short time, so they had to move as quickly as possible to catch them. Hence the Quinjet.

Currenly, they were going over the plan of attack, which to Mr Stark's dismay wasn't simply to attack. They were to send in Iron Man, Black Widow, and Thor in first, with Hawkeye in the rafters watching their backs, so that they could gauge the enemy, then he, Captain America, and the Hulk would come in from the back. This was the first mission where he and Mr Stark weren't right next to each other for the majority of the battle, hence the nerves. He's be fine, he always was, but still.

They had only gone over the plan about six times before they were approaching the building, to which Mr Rogers said, "Get ready, and don't forget the plan."

Mr Stark saluted, "Wouldn't think of it, Capsicle."

They landed about half a mile away, so that the Quinjet wouldn't give away their possition. Turning on ther comms, they went their separate ways on radio silence. Soon enough the warehouse came into view and they had arrived at their point, waiting for Iron Man to give the code word. They heard an echoing blast from farther away, and Iron Man said, "I'm in."

A few seconds or so later, they heard him again, "Found 'em... Shit."

Rushing in, they heard sounds of a battle, and Captain America asked, "What? Who is it?"

Breathing quickly, Iron Man responded, "This will be a bit more difficult than we might have thought it would be, the perp is Magneto."

Peter cursed in his head. He had heard about this guy. He had some sort of agenda against, well, everyone. He wasn't very sure about what exactly it was, just that everyone always said how everyone on his team was born with some kind of super power and that everyone who had those kinds of powers were dangerous. He didn't know much about how having super powers made you dangerous, but he did know that if he was going wrong with his powers, then he shouldn't be left alone.

He felt that it wasn't really fair for the people born with the powers, though _(Mutants, I think they're called)_. He had his own powers too, he just wasn't born with them. It didn't seem fair to be thought of badly just because you have a trait that you had no controle of getting. Mr Stark thought that it was because of their potential to be dangrous that made people fear them, making it wise to know who's a mutant and who's not, but they agreed to disagree.

The one they were against was apparently the worst of the worst. The Loki of Mutants. Peter voiced his worries, "Guys, do you think that we should stand down? I heard that this guy is dangerous."

"You can stand down if you want kid, but I'm not leaving them in there alone." Captain America's stride never faltering. Made made up, Peter followed him through the hallway, the Hulk in between them both. It took only a few seconds for them to get to the main room, but it felt like forever with the adrenaline coursing through them.

There was a man floating in the middle of the room dressed in red and purple armor. Iron Man was being thrown around like a rag doll and didn't seem able to move on his own, Black Widow was hiding behind a lump of rubble and her guns were across the room from her, Hawkeye was no where to be seen, but there were arrows floating in the air angled away from one of the corners of the room.

Thor threw his hammer at the man, who raised hihs had to it. Unlike the rest of the metal in the room, the hammer made contact. Loosing concentration, everying fell to the ground. Captain America and Peter ran to Iron Man. "Man, that hurt."

While Captain America helped lift him to his feet the Black Widow joined them, and now noticeably batterred with a broken wrist. Captain America apraised them both, "Okay, Nat, I need you to help Tony back to the Quinjet."

Iron Man made to protest, "No Tony. You can't fight him in your suit, and you can't fight him without it. Besides, neither you nor Natasha are in any shape to fight. Now go." When they hesitated he added, "That's an order."

Taking hold of Iron Man under his arm, Black Widow led them outside before Magneto changed his attention. Surprising both him and Captian America, the older man was holding his own against them. Dodging through the air, pulling peices of metal from the bulding around them and scattered on the floor to divert and attack Thor and the Hulk simultaneously, with few injuries compared to his adversaries. Juping into the fight, Captain America threw his shield to the man's back, seeing an opening.

At the flick of a finger, however, the shield changed it's course and embedded itself into a wall. Peter swung around the air, dodging various obsticals and shooting webs at Magneto, extrordinarily grateful not have used any metals when creating his webbing. Hulk and Thor were getting increasingly frustrated, both of their attacks being halted by large blocks of metal that kept coming back together no matter how many times they were broken apart, all the while being hit with pieces ranging from the sizes of motorcycles to bullets, most of them sharp.

Moments passed like hours, and the building was being torn apart piece by piece. After being hit by a redirected arrow, Captain America took notice of the building around him, shaking and looking as though it was going to collapse at any moment. "Team! We need to retreat! The warehouse could fall at any moment!"

The building began to fall, large segments falling from the ceiling, creating gaping holes revealing the sky. "Hulk, get Hawkeye out of here; Thor, give me a lift; Spider-Man, swing out of here! We'll rendezvous at the Quinjet!"

The team answered in affermative then flurried into action. Hulk lept up to the rafters as Hawkeye jumped down, Thor flying towards Captain America then flying out. Peter attatched his webs to the more secure parts of the ceiling and yanked himself up, using multiple strings to gain speed. Swinging around falling debris, Peter landed on the roof. About to web a tree, the ground beneath him gave way. Panicing, he aimed a shot upwards, forgeting that nothing was above him. He shot a web to the side of the roof, but a piece of rock collided with it, flinging him downwards.

Spinning midair to dodge falling debris, his mask was ripped off, taking his outside communication with it. Landing on a chunk of rock, he looked around, seeing neither his mask nor a way out. Peter jumped off the boulder, barely dodging a portion of the ceiling.

As he landed a metal rod broke away from a piece of cement, gashing his arm and causing him to tumble to the ground. Lying face down, something huge and heavy landed on his legs, jamming them in place. Crying out, Peter tried to turn around, get up, move, anything, but whatever was on his legs only gave his upper body a few inches of leeway. Doing the only thing any sane kid in his position would do, Peter yelled and shouted, "Help! Someone, please! I'm trapped!"

Hearing only the crumbling building around him, Peter let out a sob and his voice cracked, "Help me, please! Anyone!"

This was so much like that night with the Vulture, but so much worse at the same time. Just like last time no one was coming, but unlike last time, he couldn't get out himself. Everyone had already got out. Mr Stark was right, he shouldn't be out here, fighting villains. I wasn't smart enough, wasn't old enough. And now he'd gone and gotten himself stuck again. At least all of the important Avengers had gotten out, he hoped that Mr Stark was alright, he looked pretty shaken up. So did the rest of them.

Peter heard a resounding _crack_ from about him, then everything went black.

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 **AN: I hope it was alright, I've never done a fight scene before.**

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	2. Things Just Got Complicated

_This is_ not _how I thought this day would go_ , Erik Lehnsherr thought to himself. First of all, when he had destroyed those buildings in New York, he had thought that Charles would send his little X-Men. But no. Instead the Avengers _(what a silly little name)_ had caught wind of him and his intended audience was nowhere to be seen.

Ah, well. At least he had managed to single-handedly defeat "Earth's Mightiest Heroes." Goodness knows what kind of trouble his fellow mutants would put him through if he had lost to measly humans.

It was strange to not be able to move the metal in the hammer, but he supposed that at least there wasn't much of the alien metal on the earth, so it didn't matter. Captain America's shield was a bit harder to move too, but he could sense that there was enough known metals in the alloy for it to not be a problem. (It really was too bad that Captain America was a human, super serum or no. It would have been interesting, to say the least, to work with the man he had to thank for ending the Second World War.)

Iron Man was a joke comparatively; what with him being literally encased in gold and titanium. The arrows and bullets were no problem either. Despite how his alter ego seemed, Bruce Banner was just a man with a near uncontrollable anger problem.

One thing that did interest Erik however, was the new one. The Spider-Man. There was nothing fake or altered in the way that he had maneuvered through the air. The web things that shot from his wrists were created, but as far as he knew, the Spider-Man could be a mutant.

Throughout the fight he had against the Avengers, he analyzed what each of them could do, and Spider-Man seemed to be the most difficult to face. The Hulk, Captain America, and Thor were easily avoided and could be diverted by all the metal he had at his disposal in the warehouse. Spider-Man however, was nimble and could easily avoid what was thrown at him, while landing a few shots of his own, distracting Erik.

After a while of fighting, and noticing how broken the building was becoming, he began to pull the supports from the ceiling. As he predicted, the Avengers began to make their escape, and Erik made his way to the opposite side of the building as they were, not keen on being met with them outside, while protecting himself from pieces of rubble with various pieces of metal that were around.

Just before he made his way out though, he heard a shout, almost muted by the noise the building was making. Pausing, and listening more intently, Erik heard the shout again. It was a cry for help. That was weird, no one had been in the building except him and his adversaries, had one of them been trapped?

If so, why hadn't anyone come for them? The cries came several more times before stopping. Once the building was no longer collapsing, Erik left his hiding spot, and made his way to where he heard the screams.

It took a much longer to find the person, because the sound was farther away than he had initially thought, but when he did, Erik was quite amazed.

The Spider-Man was just a child! Right in front of him, buried under literally tons of steel and concrete was a flipping teenager! Spider-Kid's suit was torn in many places and his mask was gone completely. Lifting his hands, Erik levitated large pieces of metal around the slab of concrete and lifted it away from and off of the boy. Examining him closely, he noticed that the boy was covered in large gashes and his legs were bent at odd angles. There was a gash and some swelling at the back of his head, which was bleeding quite worryingly. Against his better judgement, Erik ripped of peices of his cape and wrapped them around his head and other cuts on his arms, legs and back.

He levitated a piece of metal and flattened it out next to the boy, rolling him onto it. Using other pieces of metal, Erik secured him to the make-shift stretcher and made his way to through the darkening forest to an underground bunker hidden a few miles away.

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The moment he's through the doors he calls for the mutant doctor he had recruted a few years previous. Bill was his name, he had the ability to sense any injuries in one's body, making him very good at getting people the treatment they needed. Getting to the infermary took only a few moments, they'd had it installed closer to the entrance so it would be easier to acess; after all, you tended to need it more when you catch the sights of the X-Men.

Rather than explaining what damages were done or wondering what to do, Bill set right to cleaning and covering the boy's wounds, as well as setting any broken bone he had in casts. He took a blood sample to check for any infections and at Erik's request, whether he had the mutant gene or not.

A few minutes later found that the boy was indeed a mutant, though not a conventional one. The gene stood out, as if it was put there purposely. Erik idly wondered exactly what powers he had and how he had gotten them. He clearly had super strength and agility, if their fight proved anything, and advanced healing was a likelihood as well, as some small bruises and cuts he had were already gone. It would take a week at least and two at most for him to be healed completely.

But what to do with him? Hopefully he could be convinced to join the Brotherhood, but if not, the he can't have him at their base. Spending a few moments contemplating, Erik decided to have him moved to a safehouse over in the city. He could have anything he need transported there, and he could explain everything to him without worrying about prying eyes.

Soon enough he had a van being loaded with the boy on a proper stretcher, medecine that Bill recomended, a wheelchair and crutches for when his legs get progressively better, and a few sets of clothes that are in his size. At least if the boy didn't initially agree with his ideas, he wouldn't be able to straight up run away. After all, his shooting things were broken... accidentally... when he was changed out of his uniform and into the hospital gowns they had acquired. Not three hours after getting the boy there, they left to the safehouse.

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The first thing Peter noticed was that his head hurt; a lot. No, scratch that, his _whole body_ hurt, mostly his head and legs. Opening his eyes, he saw an unfamiliar room. It looked like an ordinary bedroom, but there was a wheelchair and crutches in the corner, and he didn't recognize the clothes in the open closet. There was a glass of water on the dresser next to the bed he was in and guessed that it was for him. Lifting his hand to pick it up, Peter noticed that his arms had bandages on them. Lifting his other hand, he noticed that there were some there too. Feeling his head, he found another. Peter was starting to get scared, what had happened to him?

The last thing he remembered was going to bed after Uncle Ben gave him a band-aid for his scraped knee when learning how to ride his new bike. Surely this didn't happen in his sleep. Peter pulled himself up against the headboard and sat up, pulling his blankets off of his lower body, so he could see if there were any bandages there too. Uhg, casts. Peter hated those, they were so annoying; he sprained his wrist once from falling from a tree and they got in the way of everything.

Peter decided to wait until someone came into the room before worrying about anything, because that's what he did last time, and the doctor had come pretty fast. He could just ask the peron who came why he was here and what was going on. Though, he didn't like how neither Aunt May or Uncle Ben were there, they were both there the last time something bad happened.

Peter reached for the cup of water and took a drink, it was very cold, and seemed to help his headache get better faster. The clincking of the cup as he set it down sounded loud in the quiet, and he heard foot steps outside of the room in response.

Nervious and confused about everything, Peter hugged the blanket to himself just as the door was opened and an old guy walked into the room with a helmet on his head. The weird helmet made him feel a bit better somehow, probably because it looked a bit silly on him, and he relaxed a bit.

Walking up to the side of the bed, the man sat in a chair that was next to it, near the dresser. Peter frowned, the man didn't immediatly start talking. He thought that all doctors did that. "Well? Who are you?" His voice sounded different. That was weird, it sounded lower than normal. Maybe something hapened to his neck too.

The man looked surprised that Peter didn't know who he was, and raised his eyebrows. "You can call me Magneto. What is your name?"

Peter made a face, "Magneto? Like magnets? That silly, that can't be your real name, it's too weird. My name's Peter," He rambled.

'Magneto' looked unamused. "How old are you Peter?"

"I'm twelve. Why am I here? Where's Uncle Ben and Aunt May?" Peter was worried because he didn't know where they were.

The man frowned again and shook his head. He looked like he was thinking about something. Peter tried another question. "What happened to me? Why am I all hurt?"

The man glanced away for a second then looked at him straight in the eyes, "You are hurt because a building fell on you. I don't know where your family is, and you are here because I found you after the people you were with left you behind."

This didn't make any sense. What people? "Why don't I remember any of that?"

'Magneto' leaned forward, "You were hit in the head really hard, which lead to amnesia; something that makes you forget things." He added the last part when Peter looked confused. "This is important Peter, when is your birthday?"

Thinking himself clever, Peter said resolutely, "I'll tell you if you tell me what your _real_ name is."

Huffing, 'Magneto' said, "Erik."

Peter nodded, "My birthday is August tenth."

Erik rolled his eyes, "What year?"

"Two thousand and one." He leaned back in the bed and asked, "Why?"

Erik looked at him intently, "Because it's currently two thousand sixteen."

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 **AN: Just so you know, this is not Civil War Compliant. Thanks for reading!**

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	3. Forged Through

**AN: Hey, it's been a while. Sorry for not updating in forever, and I thank everyone who's read this, it means a lot. I hope to update SoH soon too, but I'm just going through some personal stuff, so it might take longer than planned. I hope you all enjoy this. ;)**

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This didn't make any sense. How was it 2016? It was 2013, last he knew. But Erik said that he lost his memories, he called it amnesia. How could he forget three whole years? He wanted his Aunt and Uncle. He wanted to remember what happened, and he wanted to not be afraid. "I want to go home." At least this explained how he got hurt so badly and why his voice was different.

Erik looked sympathetic, "I know. I can get you back as soon as you're healthy, but that won't be for a couple of weeks."

"Do you think that my family was in the building when it fell? Are they okay?" Erik had said he didn't know where they were, he didn't say if they were in the building with him. Maybe they were okay, and didn't leave him behind like it seemed like everyone else did.

"You don't need to worry, they weren't in the building. It was just you and some people who were trying to capture me." Erik frowned, and looked like he was unsure of what he was supposed to tell me.

Peter was confused; why were people trying to capture Erik? Was he trying to too? He didn't knife why, Erik seemed really nice. Erik saved him. "Why were people trying to capture you? Was I trying to too?"

Erik sat thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes, you were trying to capture me too, but I don't think you knew entirely why you and everyone else were trying to." Peter looked confusedly at him. "You see Peter, I am something called a Mutant. Do you know what that is?"

Peter nodded, "Mutants are people with powers, right?"

"In a manner of speaking. Mutants are people who are born with special abilities, that they can use to help both themselves and others. For example, one of my close friends has the ability to change what she looks like into anything at all, and I can control any form of known metals and magnetism. Do you understand?"

Peter but his lip and thought about it for a second before nodding, "So your friend can shape-shift and you are kinda like a metal-man?"

Eric's lip quirked, "That's one way of putting it. As I was saying, I am a mutant, and many people believe that those who have mutant abilities need to be watched. They think that we are dangerous and need to be controlled and have all of us monitored."

Frowning, Peter argued, "But that doesn't make any sense! Why should certain people be watched just because they were born differently than everyone else?"

'That's my point exactly, Peter." Erik smiled, "Whenever I see someone being treated unfairly just because they aren't considered 'normal,' I fight back. I try to help them and stop whoever's hurting them. The sad thing is, is that many 'normal' people think that I'm a 'bad guy,' just because I dry to help people who are being mistreated."

Peter looked heartbroken, "That's terrible! Why do people always have to be so mean? Why can't they just accept everyone?"

Erik shook his head, frowning. 'I don't know, Peter. I don't know."

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The next week went similarly. Erik would come in the morning, and help Peter into the wheel chair. They would go out to the kitchen for breakfast, and talk about themselves. What Peter did in school, band, and at home. In return, Erik told Peter about his friends, how he wanted all the mutants to stop being treated badly, and what he knew of Peter that Peter had forgotten.

He didn't know that much, which made sense, but there was once thing that Peter couldn't get his head around. He was a super hero? Erik only mentioned it at the start of the second week.

"How can I be a hero? I'm completely normal." They were sitting at the table, playing chess (Erik was really good, but Peter was getting better).

Moving his rook, Erik shook his head. "Actually, when I first found you. I brought you to a secret base of mine, where we got you medical attention. I had a DNA test done, to see if you were a mutant, and I you tested positive. You weren't born with your talents, but you have them nonetheless."

Peter was amazed, and moved his pawn, "Wow, really? What kind of powers do I have?"

"I'm not entirely sure. You have super strength, agility, superficial reaction timing, and a healing factor. Other than that, only you would know." He took Peter's bishop.

"Hmm…" Peter studied the board for a few moments before moving his queen to take his knight, "Do you know if I know any of the other heroes?"

Taking a moment to answer, Erik contemplated what to say. "You do. When you were trying to stop me, you were in the company of the Avengers."

Peter's eyes widened like saucers, looking utterly shocked about htis revalation. "I-I actually know _the_ A-Avengers?!" He stuttered.

Erik looked amused, "Indeed. Although to my knowledge you have only been part of the team for a few months at most."

Suddenly his smile melts away, being replaced with confusion and worry. "You said that the people I was with left me behind. The Avengers left me behind? And why were they trying to stop you if they're supposed to be the good guys?"

Moving his own queen, Erik spoke slowly, "I don't know why they left you; I found you unconscious beneath tons of rubble, having heard your shouts for help. I don't know all of their views on mutants, but I know that Stark was one of the leading voices towards having mutants registered."

The way that Erik said that sent shivers down Peter's spine. As though it foreshadowed the end of the world. The news made him sad, though. He had always admired Iron Man, and thought that he'd be the most open minded out of the group. _I guess not._

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A few days after that huge revalation, a doctor that Erik had mentioned, _(_ _Will, I think)_ came to see how he was healing. Apparently Will was a mutant, and could see if he was healing correctly. Peter had found this breathtakingly cool, and badgered him about the specifics for it until both he and the bandages and one of casts were gone. If he was upset about having a cast on his arm, finally being able to move around on his own felt like flying. He still had to stay in the house with Erik though, since he was still weak and couldn't remember his Aunt and Uncle's adress.

It was fun learning new things about Erik, like how he was over eighty-six, and didn't look above seventy. Apparently mutants tended to live longer than normal people. And how he had an old rival (frienemy) named Charles who had a school upstate where Charles taught mutants how to control their abilities.

Something odd happened while Peter was washing the dished though; the bowl he was cleaning whouldn't unstick from his hand. Trying to pull it off with his other hand, he just go even more stuck. Seeing no other way, Peter called for assistance. "Erik! Help!"

Peter heard thumping from the other side of the house, and suddenly Erik, in all his silly helmeted glory raced into the room, nearly falling on his face while doing so. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Peter laughed at his obvious worry, and just raised his hands as though they explained everything. "No, I'm fine. My hands are stuck though.

Erik frowned, not understanding what he meant. "Your hands... are stuck."

"Yeah."

Suddenly his arms were being poked and prodded, twisted and pulled. Try as he might, nothing they did could get the bowl off without breaking somthing. Just when Peter was beginning to freak out about having to live his whole life with his hands stuck to a bowl, and being called Bowl-Boy, Erik had the genius idea to relax his hands. Lo and behold, the bowl fell onto the table they had moved next to.

"I think we figured out what another one of my abilities is." Peter got a chuckle out of Erik.

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